


Precipice

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bonding, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-13
Updated: 2011-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raising the Righteous Man from perdition leaves Castiel’s grace weak and shattered.  Luckily, someone is there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precipice

Castiel can scarcely breathe for the pain lancing through his wings and his grace, but he fights with everything he has to leave that place behind as he cradles the soul of the Righteous Man in his arms. Every beat of his wings is agony, but still he flies as fast as he can, until finally, _finally_ , he’s free, and the stars are glistening at him from the heavens, and cool wind is blowing across his face. Behind him, the demons howl their rage as the gate slams shut in his wake, and those screams send fear and fresh pain tumbling through every shard of his broken grace.

He cries out as the human soul he carries pulses against him. It wants to comfort its protector, but it burns with remnants of Hell’s taint, and it’s like acid to Castiel’s weakened light.

Still, he has a task he must perform, and he will not fail. He drops to the ground, gently lays the soul before him, and sets about cleansing it of the sulfur and hellfire that cling to it. Every touch scars him more, but he makes no further sounds as he works. This task is too important, and though he may not be the strongest angel in the garrison, he is by no means weak.

He just survived the worst of the worst. He can do this.

By the time the soul is purified and glowing with the soft radiance that every human soul carries, Castiel is trembling. And still, there’s more for him to accomplish before he can rest. He gathers the soul close to him again, braces for the pain that’s sure to come as soon as he spreads his impossibly damaged wings, and flies to where this soul’s body waits, currently nothing more than a messy, decaying pile of flesh and bone.

With a focused determination that refuses to give way to the exhaustion shivering through his grace, he remakes the body before him, remakes it from memories that are not his own, remakes it with the love of his Father and the love he himself carries for all his Father’s children. He breathes life into it as he works, a little at a time, until blood pumps through healthy veins, until nerves reawaken and every beat of the heart promises strength and purpose. As he lays the soul within its mortal home, he marks it with his grace, because when the man awakens, Castiel wants to be there to guide him in any way he can.

He kisses the man’s brow. “Wake, Dean Winchester. Wake, and know that God has found you worthy.”

He spreads his wings one last time, meaning to carry the now sleeping man to the surface, meaning for him to wake beneath the rays of a new day’s sun.

But the pain is too much, and with a soft sound that could almost be a whimper, darkness claims Castiel.

~*~

Time slows, stops. And the being who has gone by the name of Loki for what feels like millennia now steps from the shadows of fate to gaze upon his younger brother. He sighs, shakes his head. “It had to be you,” he murmurs. “Figures.”

He closes his arms around Castiel, takes a breath he doesn’t truly need, and spreads wings of fire and glory, wings he has not used since he first lost himself on earth, to carry them from that place.

~*~

Time passes, for the sleeping angel and his guardian. But for the rest of the world, it is paused. Waiting for that next second, hovering on the brink of something it can never hope to understand.

The being who is not – has never truly been – Loki wishes it could stay that way forever. But he knows it’s impossible, knows he’s going to have to let go, let fate carry out as it’s meant to, eventually. Preferably before the rest of his brothers discover what he’s done.

But for now, he leaves the world frozen on its precarious precipice, and works to heal the damage done to his younger brother. For now, healing Castiel is the only thing he allows himself to care about.

~*~

When Castiel wakes, it takes him a long time to understand, because he has never _woken_ before. Angels don’t need to rest, and never in his existence has he been unaware for any length of time. Finding himself opening his eyes to surroundings that are completely different from those he last remembers is, at best, disconcerting. And with his last memories being of Hell and of the time just after, it’s a fair bit worse than that.

He tries to sit up from the bed of grass he’s lying on, only to cry out in anguish as the movement jostles his wings. He has nothing to compare this pain to, all he knows is that it _burns_ , it is maddening and crippling and _Father, please make it stop!_

“Hey, hey, none of that,” he hears, and a hand presses down on his shoulder, keeping him lying down on the soft bed of grass beneath him. Grace – not his own – rushes through him, and the pain abates, leaving him gasping and grateful to his savior. He blinks, intending to thank the unexpected angel by his side, blinks again at tawny eyes and a grace that is unbearably familiar and so, so impossible.

“It can’t be,” he murmurs, his voice weak and rasping. It sounds nearly human, both in volume and intensity, and he cringes at how weak he must truly be.

“Sorry to disappoint, baby brother,” Gabriel says, staring down at him with a strange half-smile tugging at his vessel’s lips. “But it really can.”

Castiel wonders if he’s still unconscious, if this is what dreaming feels like. He never would have imagined he’d dream of Gabriel, if he’d thought to wonder if angels could dream at all, but it’s so much more likely than the archangel being _here_ , alive and tending to him as though the last few thousand years since his disappearance never happened.

“ _Gabriel?_ ” he whispers. “How?”

~*~

Gabriel remembers Castiel well, when he allows himself to remember Heaven at all. Castiel had been something like a child, in terms of how humans think of their young, when Gabriel had fled. Young, and innocent, and naïve, and curious. So curious, and Gabriel had wondered even then if it would end up being the small angel’s downfall. Had prayed to his Father that it not be so, because something about Castiel called to him, made him want to care for him.

Most of the other angels had ignored Castiel, thinking him too different to be worthy of their attention. Seeing him now, seeing the soldier he’d become, breaks Gabriel’s heart. Castiel had never been a fighter, and that the host could turn him into one, train him to do what Gabriel had fought so hard to stop, makes Gabriel’s grace pulse with fury.

A long time ago, Gabriel had taken this angel under his wing, had sheltered him and taught him and cared for him, and because of that, they had punished Castiel by forcing him to be everything he’d always known Gabriel hated.

Someday, Gabriel vows in this moment, he’s going to get some sort of revenge for this. No one – _no one_ – gets to do this to Castiel. Gabriel would have words with the Father Himself about it if He showed His face long enough.

For now, he sighs out all of the pent-up emotions he refuses to express, knowing that they’ll hurt Castiel to see. Instead of raging about the wrongs the host has committed in the time he’s been gone, instead of explaining the ones he knows they still plan to, Gabriel sits next to his hurt brother, and begins to tell him the story of how he became a god.

As he talks, he grasps the younger angel’s hand, continues to let his grace soothe Castiel’s, healing his hurts and strengthening him. Gabriel gives as much of himself as he can afford to, gives still more when it’s not enough to make Castiel shine as brightly as he should.

Castiel stares raptly, the best audience Gabriel’s had in a long time. He seems alternately horrified and dazzled by the life Gabriel has led down here, and Gabriel is struck by how relieved he is that, despite everything, Castiel isn’t judging him as harshly as he always thought he would. Or, as he always thought _any_ of the angels would, and as he’d always _feared_ Castiel would. Because Castiel is special to him, and Gabriel never wanted to disappoint him.

“You should have come back,” Castiel says softly when Gabriel finishes. Though the younger angel no longer needs the connection, his grace as healed as it’s going to get for now, Gabriel doesn’t let go of his hand. “I always prayed you would come back.”

“If there’s anyone I would have come back for, it would have been you,” Gabriel says, honestly. Castiel is the only angel in the entire host who hadn’t ever let him down. In some ways, Gabriel wishes he could have taken Castiel with him when he ran, but… Just as Castiel is not meant to be the perfect soldier the host would have him be, he also was never meant for the sort of life that Gabriel has led. Castiel is something else entirely, meant for things even Gabriel has trouble comprehending sometimes.

Someday, the little angel will know what he’s worth. Until then, Gabriel’s words will hold no meaning for him, no matter how true they are, and just as he expects, Castiel turns away with a frown. “I could never have held you there,” he says. “Clearly nothing could have.”

“Oh, Castiel.” Gabriel sighs, shakes his head. “How are you feeling?”

Castiel blinks, sitting up carefully. His wings twitch, and he braces like he’s waiting for something horrible. When the expected pain doesn’t manifest, he blinks again and spreads them wide, dark feathers cascading around them in a wash of shadowy grace. They’re still scarred, marks he’ll always carry now, things Gabriel can’t heal no matter how powerful he is, but at least he’s no longer in pain. The look he sends Gabriel is full of gratitude, and wonder. “You gave so much of your grace,” he breathes. “Just for…”

“ _Just for_ nothing,” Gabriel growls. “I gave as much as I had to, for a friend I care about. Nothing more, nothing less, and don’t make it bigger than it is.”

“…All right,” Castiel says, ducking his head but unable to hide the way his grace flares brightly with joy. “I… Thank you, Gabriel. I should… My charge, Dean Winchester…”

Gabriel grits his teeth. He knows what this angel, the best of all of them, is headed towards, just as he knows that it’s going to be following Dean Winchester that gets him there. But there are only so many ways he can fight destiny, and he’s been playing hard and fast with the rules as it is. There are a lot of paths for the future to take, and though he suspects where the Winchester brother’s will lead, he doesn’t know for sure. He wishes he did. It would be easier. Of all the paths he’s seen, none are happy, and some are far darker than others.

Still.

“If I were to give you a…gift,” he says slowly, as they both stand. “Would you accept it?”

Castiel tilts his head curiously. “Gabriel…”

“Yes or no, Castiel.” _Say yes, brother. Please say yes. Let me have this, if nothing else._

There’s only the slightest hesitation, as Castiel processes all he’s seen and heard, all he knows of what Gabriel’s life has been all these years. “Yes,” he finally says. “Yes, of course.”

Gabriel doesn’t think about it, doesn’t pause to consider the ramifications. He steps forward, puts himself directly in Castiel’s space, and kisses him, the way a human would kiss. For just a second, it’s awkward, Castiel frozen against Gabriel’s vessel, but then Gabriel lets himself go, lets his true form loose just the tiniest fraction, and suddenly Castiel is melting against him, grace-to-grace, heart-to-heart.

Gabriel pours himself into that kiss, spreads his wings wide and closes them around Castiel, brushes golden sunbeam feathers against dark shadowed ones, and revels in the sounds Castiel makes at the feelings.

His hand goes to Castiel’s chest, the core of him, where grace meets heart, _feeling_ , everything an angel isn’t supposed to have, and he _presses_.

Castiel cries out as their graces merge, cries out but _doesn’t pull back_ , and Gabriel could weep as he feels Castiel’s grace curl around him, as he feels the bond settle into place, accepted, _wanted_. Cherished, even.

They pull apart slowly, blinking dazed eyes, and then Gabriel grins. “Well. That’ll be fun to explore someday.”

If angels could blush, he’s sure Castiel would be right now. It makes some secret part of him sing inside. “Gabriel…” the younger angel says, at a loss. “I don’t understand…”

“You don’t need to,” Gabriel replies, quiet but firm. “Not right now. It’s enough to know you wanted it.” _Me_ , he doesn’t say. Castiel’s barely had time to process anything since he woke up, and Gabriel intends to keep it that way. What’s next will be hard enough as it is. But above all else, he knows this bond couldn’t have happened if Castiel hadn’t wanted it, to the deepest part of his grace.

Even as he reaches up and brushes a finger to Castiel’s forehead, even as Castiel’s eyes flutter closed and Gabriel catches him and lowers him back to the ground, even as his throat closes off and he chokes with what he’s about to do…

The feeling of Castiel around him, inside him, suffusing his grace with all that he is, makes it bearable. Gabriel can do what he needs to do. He can get through anything, knowing that he and Castiel are a part of each other now. Knowing that, no matter what, he’ll always be able to look after the younger angel now.

“You’re so much more than you know, Castiel,” he says as he settles him back against the grass, something settling heavy in his grace at how peaceful Castiel looks in rest. “You’re important in ways you could never even guess, and you’re going to cause so much trouble that you won’t know how to handle it.” He quirks a small, sad smile. “Sometimes, you’ll think of me and blame me for all of it. But that’s okay…maybe even right.” He presses his palm to Castiel’s forehead, closes his eyes as he builds the wall. “You’ll wonder what happened, when you wake up, and after, you’ll probably wonder why you think of me so often. I wish I didn’t have to hide this from you, but there are things you need to do, decisions you need to make, that are going to shape _everything_. The things you do from here on out will decide the outcome of this war, and Castiel, those things _need to happen_. And they won’t if I’m there.”

Gabriel leans down, brushes a kiss across Castiel’s brow. The sleeping angel doesn’t so much as twitch. Gabriel gazes at him fondly as he continues. “I know you don’t get it, and that’s okay. Someday you will, and until then, I’ll be watching out for you from the sidelines, because…and this may come as a shock, baby brother…because I love you. Always have. And someday, this bond you allowed is going to save your life.” His voice drops to a whisper as he sees images from an as-yet-untold future in flashes of memory. “Someday, it may even save mine.” He exhales slowly, tries for something like hope. “And then…

“And then we’ll see.”

-  



End file.
